


The Moon That Breaks The Night

by elwon



Series: Canon AU's [13]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Knight
Genre: Anal Sex, Arkham Knight but with werewolves, Canon Typical Violence, Jason's a werewolf, Knotting, M/M, Spoilers for the end of Arkham Knight, Sub Dick Grayson, emotional reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: After hiring Deathstroke to get him out of Arkham, Jason takes extreme measures to heal and get his revenge. On Halloween, with the full force of his militia behind him he’s going to take Gotham from the Bat. Too bad he hadn’t planned for finding that delicious smell, or Nightwing.Companion fic toAtonement, but you don't have to have read that to read this.





	The Moon That Breaks The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shout out to the JayDick server, especially Askell, the much missed Goose, Empires, and my fave tentakitty for the title, for all their help!

Jason stares passively up at the ceiling of the trailer he’s currently lying in. His teeth and fingertips itch like crazy, and he kind of wants to bite them off, just to stop the sensation. He doesn’t though, because he can feel Slade Wilson’s eye on him, and he won’t be showing that bastard anymore weakness than he already has.

It’s taken over a week for Jason to have this much control over his shifting since that first full shift, and that’s about a week too long in Jason’s opinion. Waking up somewhere in the Florida Everglades with a dead animal in his mouth had been bad enough, but Wilson finding him naked had been the push Jason needed to lock himself in this trailer despite the humid heat of the Florida summer until he could control himself.

Despite how many times he’s brushed his teeth since then, he can still vaguely taste thumper’s fur on his tongue, and the amused looks he gets from Wilson whenever he offers him food are an irritation he could do without.

The trailer’s still better than the actual werewolf pack Wilson brought him to. The wolves in the swamp hadn’t been the weirdest people in the neighbourhood, but they’d been far too friendly, calling him family after Wilson had arranged for Jason to be bitten to help with the mass of broken bones and nerve damage the Joker had given him. The right ankle had been the worst, and the only reason Jason had been able to break into the top floor of Wayne Tower to steal the money he’s currently paying Wilson with was because the rush of freedom had been enough for him to ignore it. 

The bone and nerve damage have been healed by the werewolf Alpha’s bite, that went deep into Jason’s fractured multiple times ankle bone right to the marrow, so that the transformation would take; but the fine scars all over his body from years of crime fighting and torture, as well as that damn brand on his face remain. Jason can live with that, given the full freedom of movement he’s had restored. He doesn’t care about being called ugly if he can get his revenge.

The first day after he’d been bitten hadn’t been too bad. Jason had been tired from his body changing, sitting out on the porch and ignoring the mosquitoes with righteous fury when some of the pack members had told him the truth about shifting. Jason had listened to them explain that the moon had no effect, and they could do it anytime. It was simply that in the old days before electricity, the full moon gave out the most light, making it easier to spot werewolves than the rest of the month.

Then they moved on to finding Jason a wife, and that had been the last straw for him. He was eighteen, he didn’t want a wife! The next day he’d walked up to Wilson, and told him they were leaving. Which is how they ended up in this trailer, with Jason trying not to claw his own skin off, or eat Wilson for that matter.

Jason’s drawn from his self distraction by the sounds of footsteps heading towards the trailer. He sits up and Wilson sighs, picking up his gun and cocking it in readiness. The knock on the trailer door is accompanied by a particular smell that Jason can’t quite place, until Wilson opens the door, and the Alpha that bit Jason is revealed. So that’s werewolf. Smells like wet dog and too much axe deodorant. Bleh.

“Wilson. We’ll be taking our boy back now.” The Alpha says, and Jason snarls despite himself. He’s never bothered to learn the man’s name, and has no intention of going anywhere with anyone ever again.

“Hmm. No.” Wilson says standing back, but keeping his gun pointed down at the trailer floor. The Alpha frowns.

“Boy. Come.” The Alpha demands, clearly used to being obeyed. Unfortunately for him, Jason’s not the obedient type. At least not without over eight months of torment to break him first, and no one will ever be allowed to put Jason in that position again. Not with the claws and teeth he has, as well as the bat training. _Never again_.

“Fuck off.” Jason snarls, the only warning he’s going to give.

“Now.” The Alpha tries again, clearly annoyed that Jason isn’t hopping to. He might be the Alpha that bit him, but Jason’s a lone wolf, always has been.

“No.” Jason pushes his aching body up to stand and walks over to the door. “Fuck off, or I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth.” It won’t be the first time Jason’s done it, but this time will be easier with much sharper teeth. Jason smiles, and the Alpha frowns again.

“You need a pack. You’re mine.” The Alpha says, dipping his chin, and starting to flash his eyes in anger.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Jason takes a step forward, not in a challenge, but because the next thing he’s going to do is _bite_. “Leave or die. Last warning.”

“You can’t do anythi...” The Alpha dies with a gurgle as Jason rips his head back, taking out most of the man’s trachea with his teeth. He spits the frankly disgusting flesh to the floor (and it’s still not the worst thing he’s had in his mouth) and smiles, face covered in blood. The now dead body of the Alpha drops to the ground and Wilson sighs.

“God damn it, Kid. Now we’ll have to move our timetable up.” Wilson shakes his head and turns to grab their bags. “Clean yourself up so we can leave.”

“Venezuela now?” Jason says as he wipes his bloodied face on the bottom of his already blood covered t-shirt.

“Yes.” Wilson turns to look at him, his lone eye glinting. “Venezuela now.”

***

Jason rolls his eyes, glad for the helmet covering his face, meaning that no one can see his utter derision for Scarecrow right now. He’s been waxing lyrical about the power of fear for a good twenty minutes and doesn’t seem inclined to stop any time soon. Jason’s had to learn to rally his troops, and he’s found the shorter you make your speech, the more the people you’re employing appreciate it. 

Adding in that everyone really obviously wants to celebrate how well the release of the fear gas went in Pauli’s, and that the threat has cleared out the city just as they’d planned, the fact that Crane won’t fucking shut up is downright irritating. Jason shifts, clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly.

“I know what you’re thinking, kid.” Slade says quietly so the rest of the room can’t hear him, edging over towards Jason just barely. Nobody takes the slightest bit of interest in Slade leaning over to Jason; they’re all bored out of their minds by Crane’s speech.

“What.” Jason says, seeing Slade roll his eyes as Scarecrow continues to speechify his plans for Gotham. Blah Blah, Fear is Power! Blah Blah, I’m Smarter Than Any Of You. Blah Blah, Worship Me Like A God, Because My Mommy Never Loved Me And I’m Sad About It. Ugh, Jason should think about putting a music player in his helmet so he can drown out the unending drivelling.

“I wish I had a trebuchet to yeet him out into the ocean.” Slade says, mimicking Jason’s unmodulated voice a little too closely for Jason’s comfort.

“Please don’t use slang, Slade, it’s weird.” Jason says flatly, not commenting on Slade’s mimicry. “Even if it’s true.”

“Scarecrow does looove the sound of his own voice. Just remember, he’s paying us.” Slade shifts away from Jason subtly. Jason doesn’t dignify that comment with a reply, but he has a vicious case of déjà vu kicking him in the head anyway, so screw Slade Wilson and his condescending comments. Although not literally, because that’s always been more Dick Grayson’s style than Jason’s. (Jason will never understand Dick’s interest in older morally ambiguous men... But then Jason’s always liked the pretty boys himself.)

_Venezuela, two years ago:_

“Just remember, he’s paying us.” Slade says with amusement, and Jason doesn’t look over at him.

“I’m still gonna kill him.” Jason mutters, his distaste for their newest client has been obvious even through the helmet he was wearing when they met him earlier in the day. “ _After_ we get paid, obviously.”

“Not exactly good for business, kid.” Slade passes Jason a glass of whiskey before sitting back in his chair on the veranda of the Militia headquarters with a satisfied huff.

“We have a highly trained Militia already; this is purely to build funds before we end up in Gotham.” Jason points out, sprawled out in his own chair and relishing the heat of the jungle. “We don’t need a great reputation.”

“It doesn’t hurt either.” Slade says blandly, staring out at the dense foliage with an amused twist to his lips, like he knows something Jason doesn’t.

“No, I’m gonna kill him.” Jason says. People that traffick kids don’t get to live, not on his watch.

“At least make it look like an accident?” Slade says, taking a sip of his drink, not at all bothered by Jason’s plan. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jason shrugs, ending the motion by rolling both his shoulders in their sockets, and feeling the muscles there loosen. 

“Speaking of that highly trained Militia...” Slade says, setting his now empty glass down. “Did you really pay for the Vet bills for Henderson’s dog?”

“...Maybe. What’s it to you?” Jason says defensively. So he’d felt bad when the dog had been hit by one of the tanks and paid for the animal to have the necessary medical treatment, because he’s not actually the unfeeling monster some of the men think he is, what of it? 

“Good strategy. Instills loyalty into the troops. I’m impressed.” Slade grins at him.

“I can’t just like dogs?” Jason huffs, because he hadn’t been thinking strategy at all when he’d made the offer to Henderson.

“They howl when you walk past them.” Slade says, grinning wider. Clearly this is a thing that amuses him because as dangerous and lethal as he is, he’s also basically a grandpa. And by that, Jason means _old_.

“Acknowledging their superior.” Jason nods. “Dogs are good bois. People are trash, through.”

“Uh huh.” Slade nods, clearly not buying Jason’s very reasonable and truthful explanation.

“I’m not paying you to judge me, Slade.” Jason glares at him, and Slade just laughs.

“No, you get that for free, kid.” Slade says still amused, and letting Jason know he’s the butt of the joke. 

“Just remember, I could tear your throat out with my teeth.” Jason says pulling his lips back in a snarl.

“One day we’ll test that. But for now...” Slade says, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, and leaning forward to pull out his phone. “How the hell does this Instagram thing work?”

“You... Why?” Jason stares at him, mouth dropping open. “Well, at least you didn’t ask me how Tindr works, I guess.”

“No, I figured that one out.” Slade snorts. “But stalking Grayson on Grindr is almost as much fun.”

“Your obsession with him is really sad. You realise that right?” Jason rolls his eyes. “Wait, Grayson’s on Grindr?”

“His username is Dickpix.” Slade says, shaking his head in mock despair.

“Of course it is.” Jason says, dragging a hand over his face in _actual_ despair.

***

There’s something deeply satisfying about snatching the Cloudburst from right under Batman’s nose. The frustration that Jason catches a faint whiff of as the transport helicopter flies away with the cloudburst dangling from it be two cables, three venting tubes hanging off it, is, frankly, delicious. Almost as good as firing those two missiles at Batman from the shoulder mounted launcher, one armed at the exact same moment that Batman had raised a grappling gun ready to shoot, trying to board the helicopter. Fuck, Jason loves being a werewolf. Everything is so much easier. And sure, Batman dodged them easily, but Jason was expecting that.

Jason’s face is aching with the grin he’s wearing, thankfully hidden under his helmet. He does get a few strange looks from his men though.

“The Boss is in a weirdly good mood!” Henderson whispers to Garret, a note of deep confusion in his voice and scent.

“Shut up, dude. He can hear you! Don’t ruin it!” Garret whispers back, giving Jason a deeply professional and impersonal nod as Jason sits down and slips his arms into the straps of his seat.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” Henderson mutters. “It’s kind of nice, actually?”

“Fanboy!” Hubbard coughs into his fist, grinning at Henderson’s aghast look.

His militia, his pseudo pack, are idiots sometimes, but Jason’s in a good enough mood that he ignores them. He’s a damn good Alpha like that.

***

With the Cloudburst now securely in place, but Scarecrow deciding in his ‘wisdom’ not to set it off yet, Jason’s left with a gap in his schedule. What’s that Shakespeare quote? ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ It pretty much describes Gotham perfectly tonight. He’s already gone through all the protocols his men should be following, and there’s nothing left to do, but actually go out into the city and check on things himself. Which is why he’s on a rooftop, a block over from the Iceberg Lounge, with the most delicious scent he’s ever had the fortune to smell in his life in his nose. Without even realising it, Jason’s followed it off the rooftop and several roofs over when he realises what the source of it is.

It’s Nightwing.

Because of course it is. With Jason’s luck, what else could it have been?

Dick’s heading out of the city, probably back to Blüdhaven, but what was he even doing in Gotham in the first place? A quick check of the data streams in his helmet tells him Batman and Nightwing just took down Penguin’s gang. Fuck damn it, that means that extra cache of weapons Jason was planning to use later in the night has probably been blown to high heaven by now.

And here’s the thing, Jason’s still following Dick as he gets keeps going. His body’s moving on automatic. It wants to stick his nose deep into that scent and inhale for days. A bad idea by anyone’s metric, but even worse for Jason who’d sent a few men into Blüdhaven with the very explicit instructions of making a nuisance of themselves to keep Nightwing busy in his territory and far, far away from the chaos in Gotham tonight. His boots hit the same rooftop that Nightwing’s currently on without his permission, and Nightwing turns at the sound. _Fuck_.

“Well, I was wondering if I was going to bump into one of you tonight...” Nightwing says with a smirk, pulling out his electrified escrima sticks, and falling into a ready stance. “Let’s have some fun!”

Jason inclines his head at Dick, calculating the best way to take him out without killing him or maiming him too badly, but something in him rebels at the idea of pulling out his gun and kneecapping his former... Whatever Dick used to be to him. “Not in the mood, pretty boy.”

“Really? First Penguin then you? Pretty boy this, fairy that, a guy could get a complex!” Dick pouts as fetchingly as he can with that almost full face mask. “I’ve got a name you know.”

“No wait, don’t tell me, is it You Don’t Even Go Here?” Jason scoffs, his voice modulator changing the amused tone to one of bland sarcasm. God, he loves his voice modulator. Best gadget he has.

“Ooooh, you’ve got jokes.” Dick says with a nasty grin. “But sadly, so close yet so far. It’s I’m Going To Kick Your Ass Tonight.”

“Cute.” Jason stalks forward a step or two. “But really Nightwing, don’t you have better things to do than jump to when Batman calls? I thought you were a big boy with your own city to look after now?”

“I do what I want.” Dick takes a single step forward, checking his footing ready to launch an attack. “And tonight I wanted to help Batman out.”

“Huh, funny. I heard you’d outgrown being the backup Robin.” Jason says, keeping his body loose and ready to defend. 

“Backup Robin...” Nightwing whispers, sounding insulted. Which is good, that was Jason’s intention.

“Well, I heard that Robin Three is too busy to play tonight.” Jason says, lifting his hands in a mocking ‘what can you do’ gesture. “What a shame. I could have shown him what a real fight looks like.”

“Screw you. Robin’s more than capable of taking down a cut rate Batman.” Nightwing curls his lip in derision, and the fact he’s defending Jason’s replacement is completely expected. 

“You keep telling yourself that, Robin One... I’m sure Robin Two thought the same thing. And look where he ended up.” Jason says, deliberately needling Nightwing’s apparent protectiveness over the Robins.

“No one knows where he is.” Nightwing says with narrowed eyes. “Leave him out of this.”

“Aw, you mean you _don’t_ want to know where the second Robin is?” Jason shakes his head in mock sadness. “For shame, Nightwing.”

“SHUT UP, YOU DON’T GET TO TALK ABOUT HIM.” Nightwing yells, moving forward, raising his escrima sticks again, clearly furious.

“Ooooh, touchy...” Jason forces himself to laugh. It’s not actually any fun seeing Nightwing lose his temper, but appearances must be maintained, and Jason’s the unfeeling Arkham Knight, after all.

“You don’t know where he is! I’m _still looking_ for him, and I’ve found _nothing_! There’s no way _you_ know where he is.” Dick snarls, getting right up into Jason’s faceplate, seemingly forgetting to keep his guard up in his rage. Maybe it’s the admission that Dick’s still looking for him, but something makes him flip his face plates up and come face to bare face with Dick.

Dick rears back, his face going white and obvious confusion overwhelming in his eyes. “...No. No, it’s not possible... I know it’s Halloween, but it’s not possible!”

“Isn’t it?” Jason leans in, hand coming up slowly behind Dick’s back to take a hard, firm grip on the back of his neck.

“But...” Dick shakes his head, as if that’ll help with making sense of what’s in front of his eyes. “Is it really you?”

“Ask me something only I would know. Something we never told Batman. Something personal.” Jason searches Dick’s wild eyes, wondering what Dick’s going to pick.

“I... You. You found something in my room once. Something... _Personal_.” Dick says quietly, licking his chapped lips nervously. “I walked in on you holding it, and freaked out. I thought you’d tell everyone, but you never told _anyone_."

“Interesting choice there, Dickie.” Jason whispers back, making sure his voice isn’t caught on the internal microphone of his helmet. “It was a dildo. Shaped like an elephant’s trunk. You yelled it was a gag gift, and that you don’t think of Zitka that way.”

“Oh god.” Dick whispers, staring at Jason in shock.

“Of course, I didn’t actually believe you for a couple of months...” Jason says, letting a wry smile creep across his lips.

“Jason...” Dick bites his lip, hard enough that it goes white with the pressure and Jason strangely, wants to replace Dick’s teeth with his own. Dick holsters both his escrima, so Jason knows he believes him, but he carries on anyway.

“But then you came out as gay, I bought you an elephant thong to celebrate, and it just became a cute story that we kept to ourselves.” Jason finishes the story, squeezing the neck resting under his hands slightly.

“Holy shit, it really is you!” Dick breathes out, eyes filling with tears. “Jason!”

Jason’s overwhelmed by his nose suddenly being shoved behind Dick’s ear as he throws his arms around Jason’s neck and clings on for dear life. The sheer amount of ‘happy’ chemicals coming from Dick is ... It’s a lot, if Jason is honest. He didn’t think anyone would be that glad to see him. But then Dick _did_ say he’d never stopped looking for him in the last five years. Dick pulls back and Jason opens his mouth to speak, but then his mouth is covered by Dick’s slightly cool, chapped lips and all thought flies out of his head.

All he can taste and smell and feel is _Dick_ pressed up against him, happy, and starting to be aroused, and _his_ in a way that Jason had never let himself think about before. He feels the thud of their bodies as he presses Dick up against the wall, his hand squeezing Dick’s neck. Dick moans, pleased and a little desperate.

Dick’s hands are grappling around on the armour on his back, trying to pull Jason closer. Jason pulls back when he feels Dick’s struggling breaths against his cheek and looks down at him, eyes slightly glazed over and the thinnest line of spit running down his chin. The glazed look disappears from Dick’s eyes, and Jason doesn’t even gasp as Dick pushes himself up, literally jumping into Jason’s arms to wrap his legs around his waist.

“Anyone would think you want me to fuck you right here on the rooftop, the way you’re acting...” Jason murmurs and watches as Dick’s pupils blow wide at the suggestion.

“I...” Dick gasps, and all the instincts that Jason’s been shoving down since he was bitten explode through his mind. He has to get Dick somewhere safe and protected and give him everything that Jason’s got to offer. He’s moving, Dick still in his arms, to the door for the rooftop access. He wrenches the door open with barely any effort, twisting the knob until the lock is broken; and then he’s inside, going down the stairs to the next floor. Jason goes through the first door he finds on the next floor, finding an empty office with floor to ceiling windows and taking Dick right over to them.

“Holy hell, Jason.” Dick says, looking around the room, but not letting go of Jason in the slightest. In fact if anything now that they’ve got some privacy, he’s clinging on even harder.

“Say no, and I’ll stop now.” Jason growls, barely hanging on to higher thought. All he can think is want, take, _have_ what’s his. And Dick is his now. It’s an incontrovertible fact, like the sun rising every morning and setting every evening. Like the oceans are full of water, and humans beings needing to breathe oxygen.

“I need more.” Dick shakes his head. “I need to touch you. Need you to touch me. I need to know this is real.”

“You want proof this is real?” Jason scoffs, pushing his gloves under the waist of Dick’s top. Anyone else would be getting shocked by an electrical zap right now, but Jason designed his gloves to withstand that. “You want me to mark you up? You think me being rough with you will prove that this isn’t a fantasy”

“Yes! Please...” Dick gasps, as the chill of Jason’s gloves hits the bare skin of his stomach. “Kiss me harder, hold me tighter, use your teeth, Jay!”

“Demanding, aren’t you? Maybe I don’t want to.” Jason says, debating with himself if he should do as Dick asks. The more time he’s around Dick the less he actually wants to hurt him.

“Oh, no, no please Jason.” Dick says with a hitch to his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want.” And damn him, but Jason wants to test that offer.

“And if I tell you to get over to that window and strip off?” Jason pushes it as far as he thinks Dick will take it, but he’s fully expecting a no.

Dick pauses, looking up at Jason, obviously thinking that through. It takes less time than he expects for Dick to finally answer. “OK.” Dick drops down and walks over to the huge window, flicking at little switches and dropping his gloves, and then his chest armour and escrima holsters to the floor, finally peeling off his triple weave shirt underneath. He stands in the window, only illuminated by the moonlight shining in.

Jason stalks over to him, hearing the uptick of Dick’s heart as he draws closer, and the way his chest heaves as he breathes more heavily. “Turn around.”

“But...” Dick protests and Jason grabs his hips and twists him around until he’s facing the window, Jason looming over his shoulder.

“I’m going to fuck you up against that window.” Jason says into Dick’s ear, inhaling the scent there and tasting it. It’s even better than before, when Jason can feel Dick’s body heat radiating off him in the cool emptiness of the office.

“Oh.” Dick moans, trying to hold in a tremble.

“And I’m _not_ going to be rough.” Jason’s fingers ache as he digs them into Dick’s hips. It’s taking all his control to hold back all his werewolf strength. It would be so easy to injure Dick accidentally.

“Oh, but please!” Dick says, a note of panic entering his voice.

“What.” Jason says flatly, in warning. Dick opens his mouth once then closes it, thinking better of mindlessly begging.

“I just want to...” Dick shakes his head and Jason can see his eyes reflected in the window. “I want to prove that I’m sorry I failed you. That all you have to do is ask and I’ll do it, gladly.”

“You want my forgiveness?” Jason says, pushing again, he wants details from Dick. “Why?”

“I failed you. I couldn’t find you.” Dick squeezes his eyes shut in guilt, and Jason feels... Sad? No, it’s regret. “And now you’re back and... _This_.” 

“And me marking you up and being rough will prove what exactly?” Jason snorts softly, thinking that being the Arkham Knight is the least of the changes about him.

“I want your marks on me as proof that you don't hate me.” Dick whispers, and the stench of shame that wafts up to Jason’s nose is too strong for Jason’s liking. 

“That I can still be good for you, now. I can make up for the past, Jason. Your marks will prove that I have something to give to you.”

“Dickie...” Jason sighs, torn because he wants to hold onto his anger, but also realising that he’s already forgiven Dick. “Drop your pants. I’m not making any promises, but I don’t hate you.” Dick pulls out a tube of lube from his belt, before unbuckling it and ignoring it as he drops it to the floor. His pants follow after it, leaving Dick in his boots, mask and nothing else. Dick still goes commando, his jockstrap inbuilt in his pants, Jason notes.

Jason presses a kiss to Dick’s neck, provoking a sigh, before stepping back to remove his helmet, setting it down on the floor. He watches entranced, as Dick reaches behind himself with wet fingers and slips them inside, making himself ready for Jason. He unzips his jacket, shrugging it off behind him as Dick thrusts in and out, while a single drop of lube runs down his thigh. Jason opens his flies, taking in the smell of Dick’s rising arousal. It fills his nose and lungs, making him feel almost high at the knowledge that Dick wants him this much.

Jason steps forward, taking the tube of lube from Dick’s hand, not currently occupied with fingering himself and slicks his cock up. “Hands on the window, Dick.” 

“Nnnhaaaa.” Dick breathes out softly, pulling his hand free and resting both forearms up against the window while Jason presses himself up against his back, lining his cock up and sliding into Dick in one smooth thrust. The heat and tight clutch of Dick’s hole is incredible, almost indescribable, and it takes Jason’s control for a split second. He grips onto Dick’s hips, sure that he’s going to leave finger shaped bruises before the night is through, and drops his head onto Dick’s shoulder, listening for the quiet gasps Dick makes as he breathes. 

He lifts his head and he can see the open, vulnerable look on Dick’s face, behind the mask. His eyes are wide and emotional, and Jason rolls his hips back and in again before he means to. Dick whines, high pitched and needy and it’s all Jason needs to keep going.

“Oh, Jason...” Dick sobs, pushing back and spreading his legs wider, while trying to clench down on Jason’s cock. “Take me, take me however you want...”

“I am, Dickie.” Jason shoves Dick up on the glass harder, stepping in closer and picking up the pace, harder, faster, a little more brutal thanks to Dick’s pleas. He’s almost losing himself to the animal instinct of take and breed, until he catches sight of a tear dripping down Dick’s mask. He forces himself to release one of Dick’s hips, provoking a protesting moan and reaches down to wrap his hand around Dick’s cock, planning to jerk him off until he comes.

“No, Jason! No, please!” Dick gasps out and Jason stops moving his hand, leaving it hovering over Dick’s crotch.

“Dick?” Jason pauses, thinking that Dick wants him to stop completely, not just not touch his cock.

“Don’t, I...” Dick pants, shaking his head, beads of sweat flying off and hitting the window. “I want you to use me!”

“You. You what?” Jason stares at Dick, for once not trusting his ears.

“Please, use me. Do what you want to me first, let me be what you want...” Dick pleads, sounding lost. “Come in me, make me yours...”

“Fuck, Dick!” Jason growls, feeling himself losing control and gripping back onto Dick’s hip to really pound into him. He’s losing more control than he thought he was, as he feels his fangs drop into his mouth and his claws pop out of his fingers, leaving little pinpricks of blood on Dick’s skin. He’s pretty sure his snout is elongating and he opens his eyes to stare at Dick’s shocked face in the reflection of the window. He can see his glowing red eyes, the way his ears have gained sharp tips and the gleam of the rows of fangs in his now longer mouth.

He’s expecting Dick to scream, to push him away, fight him. But instead Dick reaches up with trembling hands and slides them into Jason’s hair. Dick moans, letting his head fall back on Jason’s shoulder, turning it away slightly so that Jason can see Dick’s vulnerable neck left there with no protection. Jason can’t resist the urge to bite there, nipping down hard enough to break the skin, but not enough to turn Dick. It’s a mating bite, and as soon as Jason’s got a good grip with his teeth, he can feel his knot swell, filling Dick up with come. Dick squeaks, his eyes going wide and nervous.

“Uh... Jason?” Dick’s body is arching back and away from him in the best sensation Jason’s ever felt, but it’s actually Dick’s body not knowing what to do with the shock of a knot growing to the size of Jason’s fist inside it.

“...Yes, that’s meant to happen.” Jason says, tongue lolling out as he lets go of Dick’s neck. “Sorry, I was planning on pulling out before that happened.”

“Uh. Wow. Oh fuck that’s _big_...” Dick groans, drooling a little in pleasure. “MMMfph, Jason... It’s so big! You’re _making_ me take it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am, Dickie.” Jason says, injecting as much smugness into his voice as he can while he’s partially shifted.

“You’re using me!” Dick sobs, and the smell of Dick’s satisfaction is thick in Jason’s nose. “Oh god, _oh god_ , please tell me you’ll do this again?”

“Of course I will. You’re mine now.” Jason says, letting his voice deepen into a growl, and feeling Dick shiver as the rumble goes through his chest. “I’ll keep you with me and on my knot whenever I want.”

Dick screams, and his whole body clenches down on Jason’s knot, milking it hard. Dick’s come sprays out in an arc, hitting the window and dripping down obscenely. Dick relaxes, going almost limp in Jason’s arms with the force of his orgasm. Jason drops them down to his knees, pulling Dick back into his lap and settles in for the wait for his knot to deflate. He wraps his arms around Dick, and Dick hums happily, floating on a sea of bliss and sexual satisfaction.

***

Reality sets back in after Jason finally pulls out, and he and Dick are left to look at each other awkwardly.

“Wow, so, I guess we really did that, huh?” Dick says, reaching out and snagging his pants, pulling them on despite the fact he hasn’t even wiped himself clean.

“Yeah.” Jason mutters, distracted by the sight of the bruises he left on Dick’s hips disappearing under that thick black armour.

“So... What now?” Dick says, turning back to Jason who freezes, suddenly realising that he’s been incommunicado with his men for far too long.

“...I should get back.” Jason shoves himself back in his pants and zips up, looking around for his helmet and jacket, spotting them several feet behind Dick.

“Jason, wait!” Dick says, and Jason jolts to a stop at the pleading in his voice. The sour tang of distress coming from Dick is stronger than the sound of his voice.

“Dick. I can’t. I’ve come too far to stop now, I can’t quit because we fucked, no matter how good it was.” Jason stands up, walking past Dick, leaning down to collect his helmet. When he straightens, Dick’s closer to him and looking at him sadly, still smelling distressed.

“There’s no such thing as too far, Jay.” Dick reaches out and rests his hand lightly on Jason’s chest.

“I spent three and a half years training myself and a huge Militia force to take Gotham. I set off a fear gas bomb in Pauli’s. I helped Scarecrow put together the cloudburst. I shot Batman in the shoulder in the train station a couple of hours back. Hell, I helped Scarecrow kidnap Barbara.” Jason snarls with frustration, pinning Dick’s hand down on his chest, not wanting him to move away. “There is a thing as too far and I went past it years ago, waving merrily at it and laughing.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.” Dick says quietly, full of conviction, despite Jason listing his crimes, most of which were committed tonight. He surprised that the mention of Barbara had caused nothing more than a slight wince from Dick, and he wonders, not for the first time, what the story there is. Whatever it was, it didn’t happen in public, because Jason had looked and found _nothing_.

“Yeah, well, I bet you didn’t believe in werewolves an hour ago, too.” Jason says flatly, unimpressed by Dick’s optimism. It’s like sometimes Dick doesn’t live in the same world with the rest of them, but Jason knows that’s not true at all.

“Yeah, how the hell did that happen?” Dick says, staring at Jason with a slight twist of amusement on his lips.

 

_Venezuela, around three years ago:_

Being on the run from a very upset pack of now leaderless werewolves from No Name Town, Florida to the middle of the Venezuelan jungle had happened in a daze of airport smell, sunshine and sweat. It’d somehow managed to involve a wrestling match in a convenience store (there had been broken bottles of Gatorade everywhere... On the plus side, Jason had found out that the secret ingredient of Gatorade was, in fact... Wait for it... Gators. If you could consider that a _plus side_.) And now that they were in what amounted to a rich man’s very secure holiday villa... Which it is, in a way, (Slade Wilson is a strange man in Jason’s opinion, because he’d bought the place outright) with a line up of various local tough guys, some professional mercenaries, and a few former army, navy and airforce personnel looking to move into the private market. 

One of them had even brought his dog. The dog keeps howling loudly at Jason whenever he walks by, but Jason’s aware from his short stint in Florida that this is just a thing that happens, and doesn’t take offence. From his position several steps behind Wilson, and slightly off to the side, Jason’s in prime position to watch Wilson put them all through their paces. He’s aware (thanks werewolf hearing!) that most of them assume he’s Wilson’s assistant, which isn’t the effect that Jason was after, but in a way is even better. 

Once he dons his full head helmet, and assumes command as the Arkham Knight, Wilson’s young assistant will be a distant memory, and instead of Jason’s relative youth working against him, the anonymity will be useful. Batman taught him that.

_(“Because experienced men don’t like taking orders from boys.” Wilson says blandly._

_“You don’t have that problem?” Jason stares down at the diagrams for the Diamondback checking them over._

_“You’re paying me an obscene amount of money not to have that problem, kid.” Wilson shrugs._

_“Can I pay you more to stop calling me kid?” Jason looks up at him biting back a huff._

_“No. You can’t afford that.” Wilson grins.)_

Wilson’s beating the shit out of most of them, and Jason’s watching out for the ones he thinks he actually wants to keep around. They’ve all got to manage to keep up with Wilson for at least three minutes, and in this scenario, keeping up literally means ‘stay on your feet’. But what Jason’s really looking for is how they react to being beaten. Thanks to his new and improved super sniffer, Jason can weed out the ones who truly enjoy causing pain, or watching it. If his plan to salvage Gotham from her own remains requires an army to implement, then the last thing he wants is an army full of joker-like sadists. No, he wants men that’ll look out for their teammates. 

Within an hour, Wilson’s whittled down today’s twenty recruits to just eight, and with Jason’s input they cut that number down to five with ease. It’s three more men than Jason thought they’d get and he’s pleasantly surprised. The man with the dog, Henderson, had made the cut, and while Wilson’s treating the new recruits to a beer to meet the previous ones, the dog’s been left off the lead.

The dog’s made its way around the courtyard, sniffing at various things, stopping at the points Jason knows have the strongest scents. Eventually, he makes his way closer to Jason, and growls quietly. Jason snorts in amusement and then growls back, letting his eyes flash red. The dog, a pitbull, Jason thinks, he’s not too sure, whines high in its throat and drops down submissively. Jason smirks, relaxing back on the bench he’s occupying, far away from the gaggle of men the other side of the courtyard drinking on Wilson’s dime. The dog, apparently having decided that Jason is his boss now, shuffles closer and chews on Jason’s loose laces. But it’s OK, he doesn’t like those sneakers anyway.

***

Six months in to the recruiting and training of the Arkham Militia and Jason can count on one hand the amount of personnel working for him that he actually likes. He respects most of them, dislikes the few that Wilson had insisted they hired, and outright hates at least two of them for no real reason he can give other than they ‘smell wrong’. He’s working on finding out what the wrong smell is, and when he does he’s booting them from the Militia no matter what Wilson says about it.

Jason’s been wearing the helmet fulltime for the last five months and the only time he regrets it is when it’s internal AC is on the fritz, as it is right now. He’s got a couple of backups, but they have less data displays which annoys Jason. The one he’s wearing right now doesn’t even have a video display, which is Just Not Good Enough. The fritzy AC is in his best helmet and unfortunately he can’t fix it while he’s actually wearing it.

Henderson’s dog has obviously slipped his leash again, as he’s decided to come over and sniff at Jason’s laces, while Jason’s sitting at an outside table fixing his damn helmet once more. Jason pushes him away gently. He likes these boots, and he doesn’t like Henderson’s dog enough to let him chew on them. After a few minutes of playing keep away the dog lays down at Jason’s feet and curls up to nap. 

Henderson makes his way outside calling for the dog, and Jason wonders why the man lumbered the poor animal with the name of Yorick.

“Yori-- Oh, sorry Boss, didn’t see you there.” Henderson says awkwardly and Jason briefly looks up before turning back to the helmet without saying a word. “Uh... You haven’t seen my dog have you?”

Jason lifts a hand and points down with the screwdriver he’s holding, not looking up while he fiddles with the tiniest screw ever invented that’s holding the fritzy AC circuit inside the helmet.

“Henderson, did you lose your damn dog _again_?” A loud booming voice says from inside, that Jason idly identifies as Hubbard. He walks out with a large tray of food and a pitcher of some sort of juice, Jason’s not sure what, the chill of the jug hiding the scent of it so that Jason can’t identify it straight away.

“Found him. He’s showing his devotion to the Boss’ boots again.” Henderson says over his shoulder in Hubbard’s direction.

“He does love them damn boots, it’s true.” Hubbard agrees with a lazy grin.

Jason huffs, and the AC circuit finally comes loose enough that he can replace it with the newly ordered one that came in yesterday. It slots in perfectly, and Jason screws the holding screw back in, pressing the on button and feeling the gentle rush of air from the helmet start to cool after a few moments. 

“You mind, Boss?” Henderson says, and Jason looks up and realises that the two of them have been speaking to him for a while. Asking them to repeat themselves would prove that he let his guard down around them, so... Jason makes his best guess to the answer he should give.

“No.” Jason says, turning quickly to swap his helmet over. The rush of cool air on his ears is heavenly.

“Great! Thanks Boss!” Henderson says, sitting down at the table, clearing a bit of space for Hubbard to set the tray and pitcher down. Jason’s glad for the helmet, not just for the AC but because they can’t see the look of ‘oh shit I fucked up there’ that he’s sure is on his face. “Garret’ll be here any moment.”

“Sure.” Jason says flatly, so glad for his voice modulator, because Henderson and Hubbard can’t hear the minor twinge to his voice that is almost a whine. Yorick perks up at Jason’s feet though. 

“Wow, I can’t believe I just won that bet.” Henderson says happily and Jason looks down at Yorick, who’s staring adoringly at Jason’s boots and clearly isn’t going to be any help. Damn freeloading dogs. “Phillips and Montenegro are gonna be so pissed!”

“Bet?” Jason says sharply, looking up at Henderson who pales slightly.

“Uh... Phillips and Montenegro bet me 200 bucks that I wouldn’t have the balls to ask you to have lunch with us.” Henderson babbles while Hubbard nods, pouring out four glasses of mango juice. As if Jason’s actually going to drink it. “And then bet me another 200 that you wouldn’t say yes. Easiest 400 bucks I’ve ever made!” Jason’s totally going to drink that mango juice. He might even down the entire pitcher, since there’s no booze to hand, and frankly he needs something to deal with this. 

“...You realise that half of that is mine, right?” Jason says after a moment, taking his glass of juice and flipping his faceplate up just enough to down the contents.

“What? But Boss...” Henderson whines, and Hubbard smacks him in the back of the head.

“Boss’ privilege.” Jason says, lowering his faceplate do they can’t see his smirk, but he thinks Hubbard caught a glimpse of it anyway.

“Aww.” Henderson sighs, reaching down to pet Yorick.

“Also, my boots have high standards, and I expect your dog to keep them in the manner to which they’re accustomed.” Jason says, purely to hear Hubbard choke on his mango juice, which is a success. Next time he’ll go for a spit take. And then Jason realises he’s planning for a next time. Shit.

“Is that manner 200 bucks?” Hubbard says with a shit-eating grin, clearly along for the ride of teasing Henderson.

“Yes.” Jason nods, and Hubbard cackles.

“Aww.” Henderson sighs again. “Actually you know what? Worth it for the looks on Phillips and Montenegro’s faces. Uh, Boss, you mind me taking a picture as proof?”

“Go ahead. But just the one.” Jason rolls his eyes as Henderson’s phone makes the camera shutter noise as the photo is taken. These guys are idiots. But something about them feels like home. Like the Florida pack had said pack was like. Are these idiots his pack? Either way they’re his. As is Henderson’s 400 bucks. 

Sweet.

 

_Now:_

“Wow. Just wow, Jay.” Dick says, shaking his head at Jason’s admittedly light on detail summation of the last five years.

“I know.” Jason sighs, letting his shoulders slump a little, finally letting go of Dick’s hand and stepping back.

“I need to get my head around this...” Dick mutters, grabbing his top and pulling it on before reattaching his escrima holster. He picks up his gloves last and slowly pulls them on.

“You should go back to Blüdhaven.” Jason says, feeling torn between letting Dick walk away and possibly never seeing him again, and keeping Dick with him, possibly losing him by forcing him to stand by while Jason destroys Batman. “Be safe. Figure out what you want.”

“And what if I already know that?” Dick says, distress rising again, even as he seems calmer and more in control.

“Dick... You don’t.” Jason’s sure if Dick already knew he wouldn’t smell as upset as he does. “Two hours ago you thought I was dead. There’s no way you know what you want right now.”

“I didn’t think you were dead!” Dick snaps, turning his back on Jason, obviously hurt. “I never thought that, not really. I could feel it. That you were alive.”

“I can’t quit now, not when we’re so close.” Jason sighs, but a part of him wants to, he realises. He’s not as committed to destroying and rebuilding Gotham as he thought he was. “Go back to Blüdhaven, Dick. And if you still want me tomorrow, when everything is out in the open? Then we can talk.”

“We’ll talk either way, Jay.” Dick says, turning to send him a sad look, before walking out of the office door anyway.

Jason inhales deeply, smelling the remnants of their time together, their mingled scents, committing them to memory. Then he pulls on his helmet and jacket and goes back to work.

***

Jason leaves Perdition Bridge, ignoring Scarecrow in his ear, focusing on taking down Batman once and for all. He knows he’s letting his rage guide him, but he wants this over. He can’t move on while Batman still lives. It’s what drives him to hunt him down with the tank controlling the Cloudburst, despite how many times Scarecrow tells him the Cloudburst isn’t bait and that it can’t take the sustained damage a prolonged fight will incur.

Eventually Jason comes tank to tank with Batman and they exchange fire, until all of Scarecrow’s predictions come true and the tank Jason’s in starts to shutdown with the damage, taking the Cloudburst out too. If Jason was still a normal human, he’d be dead with it, and it’s only Jason’s werewolf traits that allow him to open the escape hatch on the top and begin pulling himself out. He hears the sound of Batman’s cape fluttering about his legs right before he lands on the tank and Jason passes out into blessed black.

Jason comes to, lying on the roof Batman only a few feet away from him, coughing and choking from the fear gas in the air. He wastes no time, rolling up onto his knees and wrapping his hands around Batman’s neck, strangling him. Eventually Batman gets a few hits in, managing to get the upper hand by rolling them over so that Jason’s on his back, the blue outer layer of his helmet shattering around his head. Jason can’t help but laugh, and Batman suddenly stops punching, grabbing Jason’s arm instead. 

“Jason? But how? I saw you die.” Batman says, shocked and horrified.

“You should know better than to trust anything the Joker sent you, Old Man.” Jason snarls, barely able to keep his control, and his teeth and claws in. He wants Batman to suffer more; killing him now isn’t good enough.

“It’s really you... Please Robin, let me help you.” Batman says, pleading and it cuts right through to the wounded core of Jason. The part he doesn’t ever let anyone see anymore. The part he’s only begun considering letting Dick see one day.

“Don’t call me that! That’s not who I am!” Jason yells, feeling so torn he’s almost paralysed.

“You don’t have to be what he made you, Jason!” Batman says, finally letting go of Jason’s arm.

“Stop it! STOP TALKING TO ME!” Jason screams, curling over away from him. The scent of fear, panic, guilt and regret that surrounds Batman like a miasma is even stronger than the fear gas below them. Batman rocks back onto his feet from his knees and shakily turns away to talk to Alfred on the comm. line. 

A dark shadow lands on the rooftop, behind Jason. It dashes in and helps get him to his feet, a feat only accomplished by the fact that Jason is staggering to his feet anyway, and pulls him over to a grapple line. The shadow hits the retract button and they rise to the next rooftop over, twenty feet up, and hidden by a thick balustrade. Jason tumbles over that balustrade, slumping down, and curling up as much as he can, trying to protect his torso. Invisible boots are trying to cave his ribs in with vicious kicks, and all Jason can think of is that he doesn’t need his liver to be turned into jello right now. He has things to do. He can’t spend all night protecting his soft underbelly, for fuck’s sake. The urge to bite through all the ankles surrounding him until the bone breaks and the marrow slides out is sudden and overwhelming. His damn teeth _itch_ with the want. 

But that is cannibalism and is frowned upon in most societies. Jason takes a second to wonder how Killer Croc has no problem doing it, despite that fact that humans taste bad. Jason shakes his head and reminds himself that he hasn’t actually ever eaten anyone. Small bites out of former Alphas and idiots who bother him don’t count, and are practically love nips. Thinking of the Militia makes something in his head settle, and he uncurls, taking in a deep breath, before he looks around for any of them. They aren’t around which is a small blessing. He doesn’t want his pack seeing him that weak. His werewolf metabolism is working through most of the fear gas, but lingering panic is there at the edges of his consciousness. 

Jason turns his faceplate to Dick, simply looking for several heartbeats. Dick’s trying not to stare hard at his own reflection in the blue of his faceplate, holding perfectly still, waiting for Jason’s inevitable reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Blüdhaven?” Jason growls out, the voice modulator affecting his extra deep werewolf rumble that always comes out of his throat at times like these.

“That’s where Batman told me to go.” Dick says, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. “And you.” Jason can hear the frantic bump bump of it, and he wonders if it’s the gas (Dick doesn’t smell infected) or if Dick’s simply that worried about him. It gives him a warm dark thrill when he realises Dick really is concerned about him. All that talk earlier wasn’t just talk. Jason can’t help but grin at that. But...

“It was fucking stupid of you to stay.” Jason says, rolling his shoulders and moving to stand up, when Dick reaches out and grabs his elbow. Jason looks down wordlessly to the point where Dick’s holding him, he can feel the heat of Dick’s fingers through his suit and it’s... Nice. Comforting, even.

“Not as stupid as covering Gotham in that.” Dick snaps back. Jason only inclines his head, not bothering with a comeback. Dick’s not exactly wrong. The plan is more than a little bit extra. Possibly even loonier than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. But then the details weren’t _Jason’s_ plan. That was all Scarecrow, but Jason decided to take advantage of the chaos by giving him the tools.

“You found me faster than Batman did.” Jason slowly pulls his arm away from Dick, not stepping back, and the look in Dick’s eyes makes him feel unsteady. It’s a bit like a kick to the solar plexus, but pleasant. Is that love? Jason can’t remember it. Possession is easier for him. The things that are his, he’ll keep.

“I didn’t stop looking for you, that’s why.” Dick says, taking a step closer, and Jason lets him. Dick’s his, after all. Why wouldn’t he let him get close? “I told you, I’m not abandoning you again.”

“Still trying to atone for your non-existent sins, Dickie?” Jason says, trying to sound harsh, but it just comes out fond instead.

“I promised you earlier that I would make it up to you.” Dick shakes his head in frustration. “You said I was _yours_. That you were going to keep me. Was that a lie? Just sex talk?”

“No. I meant it.” Jason thought that Dick being here after Jason confessed all his sins, and Dick not trying to stop him from killing Bruce, means that they’re in a pretty solid place.

“But do you think I’m going to change my mind?” Dick sighs, looking sad and weary. “I never stopped looking for you, I’m not leaving now. Yes, even after all you’ve done. I said this already.”

“Dick...” Jason says, about to explain that Dick’s got the wrong idea.

“I’m not saying I forgive you. Not yet.” Dick bites his lip, looking away and then back at Jason with so much sincerity in his eyes, it’s actually painful to see. “But you need me. And I... Need you. So I’m going to stick around.”

“Dick...” Jason decides to shut up and agree with him, just to get this conversation over quicker. Big Bad Wolf, who? ...Well, alright, Jason is kind of the embodiment to that right now, but Dick’s no Little Red Riding Hood. Although, that _is_ a thought for later. Dick in his lap riding him, while wearing Jason’s red hoodie... “OK. Fine! You’re sticking around. But I don’t know if I am.”

“That’s OK. We can figure it out. Together.” Dick says, his smile wavering, but growing when Jason steps in closer and nuzzles at him, the red inner layer of his helmet still firmly closed on his face.

***

They’re hiding out in the top floor of a parking garage, trying to avoid the Militia’s drones while Jason works the last of the fear gas from his system. They need to decide what to do next, but Jason’s skin is crawling with the need to let the wolf out, and he doesn’t dare do that when Dick’s the only available target. Not that Dick’s there right now. He’s risking getting dosed on fear toxin just to bring Jason some water to drink, while Jason rests against the wall, healing, with his red inner helmet on the floor by his feet.

But the decision is taken from him when he hears the thud of heavy boots approach them. The familiar scent of Slade Wilson comes after the sound, and Jason forces himself to stand and brace for that fight that he and Slade always knew would come one day. 

“Wilson.” Jason snarls, dropping into a fighting stance, and finally, finally letting is teeth and claws out.

“Todd. I have to say I’m disappointed kid. You got so close and then you threw it all away for, heh, a piece of tail.” Slade says, walking towards him but stopping just out of Jason’s reach, even including the claws. He smells perfectly calm, which is pretty much what Jason would expect. “Even if it is Nightwing; for shame, Knight.”

“Shut the hell up.” All of Jason’s concentration narrows down to the man standing in front of him.

“As much as I’d love to have that little showdown we’ve been promising each other... I have a schedule I’m being paid a _lot_ of money to keep.” Slade says, still so relaxed even though Jason’s basically shifted in front of him. It’s insulting to be honest, Jason’s just as good as Slade is, and the man knows it.

“Wilson...” Jason takes a step forward, feeling his now elongated ears flatten forward and his lips pull back further from his teeth. Slade takes two steps back, which is gratifying.

“Sorry, kid. Maybe next time.” Wilson says bringing out a packet of light purple powder and ripping it open, throwing it in Jason’s face with expert aim. “I hope Nightwing’s worth giving up your revenge.”

“I’m gonna... Rip your... Throat out!” Jason growls in between choking coughs.

“No, Kid. You’re going to take a little shifted nap, and I’m going to take control of the Militia to finish what we started. I could have killed you, but well. I guess I possibly like you after all these years? Enough to let you live at least.” Wilson says, almost kindly, which is truly disturbing. “Hope you don’t mind is if I take that big old drill of yours out for a spin.”

“With... My... Teeth!” Jason gasps in between racking coughs. Fucking Slade Wilson would use wolfsbane on him, that absolute bastard. “And it’s an excavator, you geriatric fuck!”

“Yeah, that was a bad pun. Nightwing would have loved it. Give him my regards when he comes back.” Slade admits, not looking the slightest bit embarrassed. "Oh and tell him to get off Grindr... A taken man shouldn’t be on there.”

Jason slips down onto his side, curled up around his midsection, the wolfsbane burning his lungs. The powdered flower works its way into Jason’s system, forcing him to shift all the way into a wolf, much further than he usually ever does. The first thing to change is his snout, lengthening better to fit all the fangs in his mouth. Next are his hands and feet, and Jason just has the presence of mind to unlace and pull off his boots before they’re destroyed in the change. He can feel his pelvis crack and break, rearranging itself into something less human and more lupine. His claws dig into the concrete floor, dripping gouges as he body struggles with the pain as it rearranges itself.

He’s painfully aware that Wilson is standing back, watching him turn, but he can’t do anything about it. Somehow, it’s that part of the betrayal that stings far more than him taking his Militia. Some part of him knows that Henderson, Hubbard and Garret won’t take orders from Wilson and will hide out somewhere safe, but right now, all Jason can think of is how damn painful it is to have your back broken in several places while it adjusts for walking on four limbs, not two.

His tail pushes out from the bottom of his spine, and curls around his leg as his body ripples, going from a relatively not hairy human to completely furred wolf. Jason huffs as the transformation ends, leaving him as a huge black wolf, eyes glowing red. He opens his maw, yawning at the effort of fully shifting without the preparation of eating a lot to fuel it. His ears flick down and he smells the sour tang of shame, anger and sadness from Wilson. 

But that’s not good enough. That Wilson would have preferred things to not go down this way isn’t enough to stop Jason from attacking him now. Supersoldier or not, Jason’s going to rip his throat out with his teeth. And anyway, who would call themselves Deathstroke? It’s like a 1980’s tryhard teenage boy came up with it. Jason snarls, dipping his head low, and prepares to pounce. 

Instead Wilson blows another handful of powder at him, and Jason gets a second face full of wolfsbane. But this time from the scent, it’s another strand of the plant. Jason’s entire body goes sluggish and heavy as he can’t help but inhale the powder. His hearing and the slow steady beat of Wilson’s heart fades, and his vision goes fuzzy and black. The last thing he sees before passing out is Slade’s boots as he walks away.

***

Scarecrow is such a bastard that Jason’s inclined to shoot him purely for existing at this point. It’s bad enough that a good half of the events of the night could have been avoided if he’d just let Jason kill Bruce at the beginning of the evening. But no, Crane just had to grandstand and now everything is a complete fucking mess. (Alright, more than half of that is Jason’s fault... Big Bad Wolf after all, and OK, he’s a little bit glad that he didn’t actually kill Bruce. If only to save him from Dick’s pout and powerful right hook.)

Once Jason had woken up enough to shift back into human form, minutes before Dick had made it back to the parking garage, Jason had made the executive decision to fuck up Scarecrow’s plans properly as revenge for being forced to shift in the first place. No one gets to control Jason anymore, certainly not canvas faced lunatics like Crane. Dick had helped him change his look, ditching the outer blue helmet with the ears, leaving him in his inner red one, and painting over the Arkham symbol with red, leaving a stylised bat in its place. Jason’s not really sure about the bat, it feels a bit dishonest, but Dick had looked so happy, he rolled with it.

He grapples up the outside of the Arkham Asylum tower, twin guns set up in their rifle configuration slung across his back. Dick’s down on the ground, readying an ambulance to get Robin and Gordon back to the GCPD. Bruce’ll probably insist on going his own way, and that’s just fine and dandy by Jason.

He crawls in the window, making as little noise as he can, spotting Scarecrow grandstanding with a camera on him and an unmasked but batsuited Bruce strapped down to a gurney, tilted up into a standing position, having just given Bruce a dose of fear toxin. Scarecrow is holding a gun right in Bruce’s face, as if that’s not something that he faces down every single night. Jason’s sure that Bruce spots him in the background, though. He gives Bruce a sarcastic little wave just in case he missed him, though. So Jason’s maybe being a petty dramatic asshole and drawing it out a little, sue him. 

“I’m not afraid, Crane!” Bruce growls leaning forward as the green fades from his eyes, and that’s something else to tell Dick about later. 

“Impossible... Without fear, life is meaningless!” Crane yells angrily, moving in to give Bruce another dose of the toxin, reducing him to a mindless wreck of a man. Jason’s annoyed enough by this that he aims his rifle, and shoots out one of Bruce’s wrist restraints, only pausing to cock his rifle while Scarecrow whirls around to see who’s shooting, before taking out the other wrist restraint, and watching with satisfaction as Bruce uses both of his now free hands to grab Scarecrow by the neck and squeeze, until of course, he grabs wrists and forces Crane into a massive overdose of his own medicine.

Jason’s job done, he slips away quietly as Scarecrow screams and Gordon gives the asshole a satisfying, even to Jason, punch in the face. Bruce frees himself fully from the gurney, going to check on Gordon and Robin. Jason rappels down to the ground, and makes his way over to Dick.

***

Jason crouches on the rooftop overlooking the top of the GCPD Prisoner Intake, where Bruce has just finished bringing Scarecrow in. Dick gives him a quick nod, and jumps down to the rooftop to wait for Bruce to emerge. Jason takes his helmet off so that the first rays of sunlight don’t bounce off it and announce his presence. (Sunlight? In Gotham? HA!) Jason watches the clouds pass over the early morning sky while he waits, his ears trained on Dick’s steady and for the moment, slow heartbeat. 

Dick’s pulse picks up and Jason turns his eyes to the rooftop. Bruce has come through the doors and Dick moves over to him.

“I told you to go to Blüdhaven.” Bruce says, face still unmasked for the moment.

“And I didn’t listen. I know, I know, we’re all so surprised! Nightwing disobeying an order from Batman? Unheard of.” Dick says in his usual smart alec tones, and without the cowl on, Jason can see and smell that Bruce actually is amused by the comment, even though he tries to keep his face like stone.

“Dick.” Bruce says in an apparently faked long suffering tone. Jason would be gobsmacked if he wasn’t still so irritated by Bruce.

“Bruce.” Dick replies deadpan, crossing his arms.

“You should go.” Bruce reaches out and pats Dick on the shoulder awkwardly. “The media storm is about to start, there’s no need to have you caught up in it.”

“Bruce, I can help.” Dick protests, barely even glancing down at Bruce’s massive paw weighing down on his shoulder.

“Thank you, but no.” Bruce says gently, and isn’t that just a tone that Jason had forgotten that Bruce was capable of. The mixed feelings he still bears towards Bruce are getting stirred up again and Jason has to look away.

“Bruce...” Dick sounds like he’s gearing up to convince Bruce to let him come along when Bruce starts speaking again, and Jason squeezes his eyes shut harder. It doesn’t make a bit of difference to how well he can hear them with wolf hearing but being able to concentrate on the blooming colours behind his closed eyelids is a nice distraction.

“I really am proud of you, Dick.” Bruce says with more warmth in his voice than before. “Look after Blüdhaven. Look after yourself.”

“I...” Dick stammers, clearly caught offguard.

“Sometimes I think you’re the only thing I really did right.” Bruce says and Jason nearly misses it with how quiet Bruce’s voice goes. Another plus for werewolf hearing.

“...I love you too, Bruce.” Dick says back, just as quietly, but with a note of confusion, and Jason opens his eyes to take a peek at his expression. Yup that’s definitely confusion on that pretty face.

“There’s a city out there that needs me for the rest of the night.” Bruce says, louder and cooler and steadier. Jason realises that Bruce’s heartbeat has been slow and steady all the way through this conversation.

“You’re still going out there? What am I saying, of course you are!” Dick shakes his head. “You want some help? Or some company? It’d be like old times, one last outing for Batman and Not Robin, Nightwing.”

“No. Go home, Dick.” Bruce slides his cowl back on and goes over to the Batsignal, attaching a small sonic detonator to the underside. “Goodbye.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, right? When things are a bit calmer.” Dick insists, following Bruce over to the edge of the rooftop.

“...Yes.” Bruce says after a pause, his pulse ticking up for a moment. Interesting, that. He’ll mention it to Dick later, maybe the next time they talk about Bruce.

“Alright then.” Dick nods and Bruce hits the remote on the detonator, and the glass in the Batsignal shatters as Bruce grapples off into Gotham without a single glance back. 

Dick sends his own line to the rooftop Jason’s waiting on and gives Jason a strangely hurt look as he comes over. “You were right, Jason. He didn’t mention you at all, not even that you’re alive.”

“Did you really expect him to?” Jason says, moving closer so that their shoulders bump.

“Yes! ...No, I guess not.” Dick sighs. “Maybe he’ll tell me tomorrow? When we’re not out in public?”

“Sure, maybe.” Jason says, although he thinks Mr Freeze has more of a chance of having a cool chilly spot all to himself in hell than Bruce admitting Jason’s alive without any prompting from anyone else. “You look wiped. You still have that penthouse apartment here? We should eat and rest.”

“Yeah. Yeah, cereal and a nap sounds great about now.” Dick pushes a hand through his hair and summons up enough energy to smile at Jason. As he watches Dick take the lead back to his apartment, he gets an earworm that won’t go away until he starts humming it. Dick gives him a sweet amused smile when he hears it, and starts singing along. Somehow Jason knew that Dick would do a fantastic rendition of The Show Must Go On by Queen, but hearing it today of all days feels strangely portentous. 

***

_Six Months Later:_

Gotham’s still a mess after Halloween. Most of the population has returned, despite the property damage and general infrastructure being kind of fucked. Jason’s been working hard to make some amends for his part in the chaos as Red Hood, taking out Black Mask’s operations while Nightwing continues to make Penguin’s life a living misery. And he deserves every second of it, in Jason’s opinion.

The only plus in the whole mess, apart from Dick, is that all of the personnel Jason had actually allowed himself to like in the Militia had escaped Gotham, and were back to being free agents. Dick had spent a good week trying to convince Jason to give the GCPD a list of names. Jason had only managed to avoid a real slap down knock out fight with Dick, by leaving Dick’s somehow still intact Gotham Penthouse apartment for several days, hiding out at an old abandoned safehouse until Dick had tracked him down. He’d begged Jason to come back, promising not to bring the issue up again, once he realised that Jason really had considered the Militia his pack, and that he’d walked away from them for Dick.

It’s still a delicate balancing act, their new relationship. Sometimes Jason feels crowded in by Dick’s need to give him all the attention, and sometimes Dick feels like he’s still being punished for abandoning Jason all those years ago. Jason’s pretty sure they’re both imagining the other doing those things, but trying to tell Dick that has only resulted in Dick staring at him with the saddest eyes Jason’s ever seen. Jason usually ends up backing down for fear of actually seeing Dick cry. Jason can handle a lot, his whole life has been _nothing_ but ‘a lot’, but Dick crying? Even the thought sends Jason into a quiet panic.

Tonight, though, Gotham’s been surprisingly quiet. Jason hasn’t even heard of a sighting of Batman’s Ghost. (It’s not Batman’s Ghost. It’s fucking Bruce, using fear gas, Jason’s sure of it. Bruce pretending to be dead and not even having the decency of telling Dick or Drake that he’s not, in fact, dead. Jason hopes that Alfred’s gone back to live in England instead of having to deal with all this shit for a second longer. It’s an unfounded hope, but Jason’s been making an effort to be more positive.) 

Which means that he’s got time to sit up on a rooftop surveying the entire city, and marvelling at the fact that through everything, Gotham keeps going, even well after it should have curled up and died and put everyone out of its misery. The twinkling of lights in the dark distance almost look pretty, but Jason knows half of them are from rebuilding, rather than just signs of life in a city. He feels a few twinges of guilt, but really, Gotham needed a renewal, and the City of Fear thing certainly provoked that.

On nights like this, he keeps his red helmet on, turning the settings down so all the sound he hears and the aromas he can smell are dulled and muffled, so that he has to rely more on his sight, just like he used to back when he was Robin and felt invincible. It’s surprisingly peaceful and relaxing, looking over the remains of the city like this, not hearing every noise for once. Jason doesn’t know how Superman manages it. 

But even with all the settings turned down on his helmet he still hears Dick grappling on the rooftop from the next building over. The soft sound of his feet hitting the rooftop and scattering the gravel is unmistakable. Even the sound of his body armour rubbing on itself as he moves is unique and burned into Jason’s mind. Jason stays at the edge of the roof, he only shifts his legs to brace himself against the balustrade. Dick creeps up slowly on Jason, doing his best to be stealthy, even though he knows Jason can hear his heartbeat.

Dick pounces, and Jason knows he’s grinning behind him. Jason doesn’t even move an inch with Dick’s weight suddenly on him, won’t give him the satisfaction of knocking him over, not even in play. Dick seems to like that anyway though, given the pleased scent wafting through the air.

“Found you!” Dick swings around on Jason’s shoulders, so that he can drape himself over Jason’s lap, keeping one possessive arm around the back of Jason’s neck. Jason lets him, because honestly the extra protection on his neck is always a nice thing.

“Yeah, well done, Dickie. Great job you did there.” Jason automatically moves one gloves hand to rest on Dick’s warm thighs but otherwise doesn’t move.

“I know!”Dick grins up at him, smelling smug for no reason whatsoever, that Jason can see. Honestly, this circus boy...

“Especially since I wasn’t hiding.” Jason continues, voice coming out bland due to the helmet’s modulator, rolling his eyes at Dick’s utter ridiculousness.

“Shush.” Dick chides, smile getting wider as he relaxes contentedly in Jason’s lap. “I found you. That’s all that matters.”

“It is?” Jason keeps his face still under the helmet for practice, waiting for Dick’s elbow in his clavicle, and there it is. “I mean, it is. Totally.”

“Damn right!” Dick laughs, going nearly boneless in Jason’s lap. As nice as that is, it could be better.

“It’s been quiet tonight. You want to head home?” Jason sweeps his thumb over Dick’s leg, dipping down to his inner thigh.

“In a little while.” Dick says, sighing happily and pressing his cheek to Jason’s chest. “Did I mention you smell really good tonight, Jay?”

“No. You completely failed to mention that at any of the twelve times we’ve spoken.” Jason snorts, shifting his hand to slide completely between Dick’s thighs.

“So you’re saying I’ve said it too many times?”Dick says, looking up at Jason with amusement.

“I would _never_!” Jason says in a mock scandalised tone, which is ruined by the modulator.

“Well, just for that, we’re going to do one more loop on patrol before we go home.” Dick announces, suddenly standing up and leaving Jason bereft and missing his warmth.

“Oh come on!” Jason complains, reaching out to tug Dick back into his arms.

“Nope, you just talked yourself out of energetic, athletic, sweaty sex with bonus knotting.” Dick grins, dodging Jason’s grab with ease.

“So... Now it’s just going to be sex with bonus knotting when we get home instead?” Jason says, getting to his feet, knowing Dick’s game now.

“Yes.” Dick nods smugly, and twisting on his heels, runs off to jump onto the next rooftop, and Jason sighing, follows after him.

***

“See, I told you it was quiet.” Jason says as he jumps down to street level. Dick makes a soft thump as he lands beside him, not deigning to respond to the comment.

“Hmm, so there are three life signs at the other end of the avenue, and a dog. We should check out what they’re doing.” Dick tells him, moving out of the alley toward the avenue.

“Seriously? Are they actively doing a mugging?” Jason points out. “Because if not, we should _go home_.”

“We’re checking it out, and you’re going to like it, mister.” Dick says, and Jason supposes that’s him told.

“Ugh.” Jason mutters as Dick takes to the shadows and runs along the avenue to their targets. Jason walks after him, glaring up at the moon. As he draws closer he flicks the switch in his helmet that turns off the scent dampeners, just in case these guys mean trouble. He isn’t expecting four familiar scents to jump out at him.

“Kind of late for you to be loitering don’t you think?” Dick asks the trio with a disarming smile, and Jason watches as Henderson, Hubbard and Garret all blink at him with varying degrees of confusion.

“Only if you don’t consider time a social construct to enforce the enslavement of the masses.” Hubbard says, and Jason is vividly reminded of what a little shit the man is.

“Uh. OK, we got ourselves a philosopher here, Hood.” Dick says, looking over his shoulder at Jason and winking. 

“I think you mean an unemployed loser, ‘Wing.” Jason says, switching off his voice modulator.

“Oh now that’s just mean, Boss!” Hubbard pouts, managing to hold the expression for all of a second before that old shit eating grin is back on his face.

“So is being a little shit to my... Nightwing.” Jason fumbles, realising that he’s never actually had the conversation with Dick to decide on terms for each other. Dick’s his, and Jason’s Dick’s, but the actual words for that to use with other people are lost to him.

“Your Nightwing?” Henderson says with a delighted grin and Jason wants to smack him and then himself. “Nice going, Boss!” He’s about to when Yorick pounces on his laces, and Jason has to jump back and growl at him. Yorick whines but sits passively, staring up at Jason with betrayal in his small canine eyes.

“You know these guys, Hood?” Dick blinks at him, and Jason can see him trying to work out where he knows them from.

“I have that particular misfortune, yes.” Jason sighs, feeling relaxed and happy for the first time in a while and trying his best not to show it. “Well, except Garret. She’s OK.”

“Thanks for that glowing recommendation, Sir, I’d feel all warm and fuzzy if I weren’t dead inside.” Garret says, completely deadpan. “I’m going to tweet that to my cousin, Samantha-who-makes-jam-so-we-call-her-Jamantha. She’ll be beside herself.”

“See? She’s OK.” Jason says, gesturing to her for Dick’s sake. “But, boy, I was hoping you guys were dead or incarcerated or something. Why are you back?”

“Well, Boss, having paid attention to the newscasts that you and Nightwing were in charge of Gotham now, we thought we’d offer our services again.” Henderson says with obvious stars in his eyes. “You two really are the Power Couple of Gotham. Yay!” 

“No. You’re all fired on grounds of I don’t want to pay you anymore.” Jason says without missing a beat, and sees Hubbard smirk.

“You mean you have three openings and are hiring? What luck!” Hubbard says as if Jason hadn’t just fired them for what is probably the 93rd time since he met them.

“No.” Jason says, gearing up for a few playful threats. Hubbard’s always been the best guy for that. 

“Thanks Boss, we won’t let you down.” Garret says, more than used to the two of them arguing.

“Garret, do we need to have a little chat about consent? Because I usually emphasise my point with a bullet to the brain.” Jason steps forward giving his best loom at Hubbard who leans back at the exact same moment. Jason forgot how fun this was.

“By which he means, you’re hired.” Dick laughs, draping himself over Jason’s shoulders. “Hi, I’m Nightwing and you must be Henderson, Hubbard and Garret.”

“Nightwing! What the fuck?” Jason turns to look at him, still pretending to be irritated.

“I’m Mike Henderson, he’s Reg Hubbard, and that’s Maria Gonzalez Garret.” Henderson says waving his hand at each of them as he names them. “And that’s Yorick, who has yet to make good in his promise of marrying the Boss’ boots.”

“Nice to meet you all.” Dick grins, eyebrows rising at the description of Yorick, before he turns to Jason. “These guys are your pack right?” Dick continues without waiting for Jason’s denial. “So shut up and hire them again.” Jason says nothing, but he hopes Dick knows how much he’s glaring at him under the helmet. “Also that dog is eating your pants.”

“FUCKDAMNIT YORICK!” Jason yells, yanking his leg away from Yorick’s jaws. “No, bad dog.” He punctuates it with a growl, and Yorick whimpers and lays his head on Jason’s foot. “No, looking cute isn’t getting you out of this.” 

“It totally will, Boss.” Garret says with not even a hint of a grin. Which is why Jason likes her best, and always has done.

“All of you are _fired_. Again.” Jason sighs, grin slightly manic behind his helmet.

“Hired. Again.” Dick whispers to them, and from the smile on his face, Jason knows he’s going to give in. Going to, future tense. Because he _hadn’t_ the exact second he’d seen the four of them again. Really.

***

With Jason’s Militia pack on the scene, it leaves him a little more free time, since he doesn’t have to patrol quite so large an area. It also means Dick has more free time, which leads them to spending more time together at home. And given that they’re two young, healthy men, more time at home leads to the exact situation they’re in now.

Which is: Dick, face down, ass up in their bed, whining for Jason to use him harder. Jason’s balls deep inside him, letting loose a little, and dragging his claws down over Dick’s back while his teeth are filling his mouth. He wants to bite down deep on Dick’s neck, but he’s forcing himself not to. Dick hasn’t given him permission to bite like that, and in this state of mind, he can’t. Or more accurately he would beg Jason to, not caring about anything but pleasing him. As much as Jason loves how submissive Dick gets, and how easily he slips into subspace for Jason, that’s crossing a line Jason isn’t willing to approach without a good long conversation beforehand.

“Jason, please! Let me be what you want...” Dick slurs out into his pillow, fingers gripping it so tightly that his knuckles are white, and Jason’s pulse quickens with Dick’s rising need. “Use me... Make me yours... Want to be good for you.”

“You are, Dickie.” Jason growls out around his teeth, watching the thin red welts his claws leave in Dick’s back, before he curls them around Dick’s hips. He can smell the pinpricks of blood his fingers leave as he tightens his grip. His thumbs slip back, pulling Dick’s cheeks open wider and letting him slam in that little bit deeper, making Dick wail desperately as Jason pounds his prostate almost viciously.

"Please come in me!” Dick sobs, trying to arch back and take Jason deeper. It makes Jason snarl and bend over Dick’s back to pant in his ear. 

“I’ll do what I want, baby. You’re going to lie there and take it like I want you to, aren’t you?” Jason licks at the sweat on Dick’s neck, letting his snout extend from his face. It’d be so easy to bite down to the bone right now, pin Dick down properly and really truly _use_ him. But Jason only nips at Dick’s skin, breaking the skin but not going deeper than that. He licks away the sweet iron tang of Dick’s blood and picks up his pace to just shy of brutal.

“Jason!” Dick gasps, the only warning Jason gets as Dick’s body seizes, clamping down around him before going limp as Dick dirties up the sheets under them. The scent of satisfied mate fills Jason’s nose, the best in the world in his opinion.

“Good boy, baby.” Jason groans around the flesh of Dick’s neck in his mouth. A few more wild thrusts of his own and his knot begins to swell as he fills Dick up with his come. Dick’s hole milks him until he’s empty; knot being massaged in the best way possible. Once the overwhelming pleasure fades to the warmth of being held, Jason rolls them onto their sides to cuddle until Dick starts to surface from subspace.

Dick’s mentioned that his favourite time in the world is when Jason holds him like this, that nothing exists for him outside of Jason’s arms around him, and his knot inside him, and the quiet rumble of happiness that reverbs through his body from Jason’s growl. 

It takes a few minutes until the limpness in Dick’s body changes quality, because while he’s still perfectly relaxed, he’s more alert, and when he finally whispers Jason’s name quietly, the sound isn’t slurred in the slightest. Jason focuses on pulling back his snout, teeth and claws, and carefully rolls him forward. He slips his hands under Dick’s leg and lifts it, ducking under it so that they’re face to face. Dick’s used to this treatment by now and automatically lifts his heavy sluggish limbs to wrap around Jason’s shoulders. By the time Jason’s slid his arms up under Dick’s back, he’s also slowly wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist. From there it’s easy to hoist Dick up and walk him into the bathroom.

Dick clings on like a koala while Jason turns out the shower and steps them under the spray. The hot water massages down on them and while Jason mourns the loss of their combined smell, the way Dick holds on to him makes up for it. 

“No! Don’t go! Please stay in me. Don’t leave me...” Dick whispers as Jason finally slips out of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dickie.” Jason says, although he does lean back to let the water fall between their bodies. He lets Dick down as they get out of the shower and Jason wraps Dick in their biggest fluffiest towelling robe. The smile he gets as Jason rubs down Dick’s head, ruffling his hair is happy and satisfied and Jason feels a rush of pride at putting that smile there. Jason grabs an old pair of sweats to pull on after a quick pat down of his own body.

“I’m thirsty...” Dick says biting his lip.

“Yeah, after that session you need feeding, huh?” Jason grins, picking Dick up in a princess carry. “I gotta do everything round here, don’t I?”

“Serves you right.” Dick nods giddily. “For having such a big knot.”

“I’m glad you’re not doing the Grandma routine, anymore.” Jason says rolling his eyes. “I’d have made you walk to the living room on your own if you’d done it this time.”

“Mean. It’s like you’re trying to tempt me.” Dick sighs, happily resting his cheek on Jason’s bare shoulder. 

“I would _never_!” Jason says in a mock scandalised tone and Dick giggles.

Jason pads into the living room and sets Dick down on the couch, reaching over for the bottle of water he’d left there earlier. He opens it, passing it to Dick, keeping an eye on how quickly he downs it. Dick seems content to sip at it, though, so Jason turns his attention back to the food he’d left out earlier, ready for now. It’s all finger food, piled up high on a plate so that he and Dick can curl up together on the couch, picking at the food while they watch a movie.

“I want to watch a silly romcom.” Dick says, shifting slightly in Jason’s lap, before he grabs Jason’s arm and forces it around his waist.

“Really? Why?” Jason picks up the remote and flicks through their option until the romcom section is on the screen.

“I want to see someone else getting a happy ending too.” Dick says, snuggling down in Jason’s arms.

“You realise I’ll be as bored as fuck, right?” Jason teases, knowing full well he’ll only be paying attention to Dick anyway.

“Shush I’m picking!” Dick says grinning, gently elbowing Jason in the kidney. Of course, gentle for them would be debilitating for anyone else. Jason’s just glad he’s got werewolf healing. Maybe he should send the pack in Florida an anonymous apology fruit basket. ‘Sorry I murdered your Alpha and ran away.’ On second thought, maybe not...

“Found anything you want yet?” Jason rests his chin on Dick’s shoulder.

“You. I found you, Jay.” Dick says distractedly looking through titles.

“Fucking sap.” Jason snorts, holding Dick tighter. “Yeah, you did, Dickie. You did.”


End file.
